Bent and Broken
by Torahamutaro-chan
Summary: Harry Potter has put up with a lot in his short life. He's followed every order, listened to everything he was told without question, but one summer he finally breaks. He tries to run and ends up somewhere unexpected. Currently under revision.
1. Run

Okay, I know many of you are probably thinking, '_She's starting __**another**__ story_?_ Finish your other ones, damn it_!' But I was suddenly smacked upside the head with inspiration. I personally blame my horniness, but there's not much smut in this chapter so it could be something else. I'm saving the dirty stuff for chapter two anyway. Don't want to give too much away. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Harry Potter was miserable.

He had spent the first few weeks of his summer without any mail; he had no one to talk to. That's not to say that he was bored. No, his relatives kept him completely occupied. After they had found out that Harry's "mass murderer" godfather had passed on, things had gone back to the way they were before, only much worse… They had locked away his wand and other personal belongings, including his photo album, in the cupboard. They had re-barred his windows and added a new set of locks to his door. They made him do all the house and yard work. His uncle had even begun to beat him again, when he did something wrong and simply for his amusement, as he had done when he was a young boy; only now his whale of a cousin joined in on the fun. His uncle often screamed, "Where are your _**freak**_friends now, boy?!" while he beat him. He would repeat the line again and again and then laugh cruelly in his face when he finally fell to the floor. Harry never cried in front of his relatives, no matter how often his uncle and cousin physically abused him, no matter how many times his aunt screamed at him and slapped him and ordered him to redo something he had already done correctly but "not perfect enough" and no matter how many times he felt he would burst if he didn't release those pent up emotions. He held out hope, knowing that he wouldn't have to stay in this Hellhole for much longer. Someone would come; they always did.

The day he let the tears fall was when he finally received letters. The first two were from Ron and Hermione. Both spoke of what a fun time they were having with their families. Ron and the rest of the Weasleys had gone to visit Charlie in Romania. Hermione and her parents had gone to France where they were visiting the many historical sites and museums. Both ended their letters the same basic way. "_Hope your summer is going well_. _See you soon_." He glared at the parchment, feeling resentment rise in his chest. His friends always got to have normal, exciting holidays with their families; their families who loved them. He told himself to calm down and reminded himself that he would join them soon at the Burrow or at Headquarters. Then the third letter came. It was a response to the message he had sent Dumbledore secretly while the Dursleys were out to dinner one night. Luckily Hedwig was thin enough, due to lack of nourishment, to squeeze through the bars. She returned to him well fed and healthy and could barely fit back through the tiny space. When she finally got into the room, feathers ruffled and out of place, she held out her leg for her Master to take the letter. The envelope had Dumbledore's swirled scrawl on it, forming his name. Quickly, Harry ripped open the envelope and read through the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? I hope you are doing well. In response to your question of when you shall be taken from the Dursleys this summer, I am afraid you will not be leaving. Voldemort is assembling forces across Europe and his Death Eaters are searching for you. Because of the blood wards surrounding Number Four Privet Drive, I feel it is the safest place for you to stay at this current time. On September the first an Order member shall arrive to escort you to King's Cross Station. Your books and other supplies will be purchased for you and sent to your dorm room at Hogwarts. Enjoy the rest of your summer and do try and stay out of trouble._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

When he was finished, it fell out of his hands, fluttering slowly to the floor. Harry had his hands up as though he was still holding the parchment; his gaze was blank, still fixed on the point where the words had just been. Suddenly, tears burst forth from his emerald eyes. They flowed nonstop as he rethought what had been written in the letter. '_He wants me to stay_… '

Harry's knees began to shake and gave way. He quickly fell to the floor. And he cried. He sobbed uncontrollably, unable to stop the torrent of emotions flowing through him. The tears came out in streams and his breaths were short and ragged. Everything he'd been holding in since Sirius' death, since his return to Privet Drive, was bursting forth. He tried to stop himself, but could not. So he let himself break down. '_They… Th-they're not.._' He sobbed harder. He had been holding out hope for nothing… No one was coming.

XxXxX

Harry awoke the next morning feeling worse than he had in a long while. He looked up from the floor at his electric clock; the red neon numbers stating it was 6:52 AM. The Dursleys would wake soon. He pushed himself up off the floor shakily and made his way out of his room, not even bothering to change. '_It's not as if they care about my choice of clothing anyway_,' he thought. He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Hearing movement from upstairs, he quickly set the table and got out the bacon and eggs to make breakfast. He worked fast and efficiently, cooking the bacon without burning it and preparing the eggs just the way his uncle liked it. His aunt was the first to walk into the kitchen. They caught eyes for a moment. She sneered nastily at him and sat down, demanding orange juice. He brought her a glass and went back to put the coffee on and to retrieve the serving plates stacked with the finished bacon and eggs. He walked slowly, careful not to drop anything. Unfortunately, Dudley chose that precise moment to burst into the kitchen, causing the door to slam into the plates and then, painfully, into Harry's face. The startled boy fell back onto his bum, the plates and food crashing to the kitchen floor. Dudley smirked down at the injured boy then continued on his way into the dining room, sat down, and waited for the inevitable. Harry, realizing exactly what his cousin was expecting to happen, scrambled to pick up the mess. A rumbling could be heard upstairs and he panicked, cleaning faster. The rumbling got closer and closer until the door slammed open again, this time revealing Vernon Dursley; large, fat and purple-faced, glaring down at his nephew. Harry froze, staring up at his uncle with wide eyes. The huge man surveyed the mess on the floor and growled. "**BOY!!!**"

Harry tried to get away, tried to crawl out of the way of the enraged man, but the whale was surprisingly fast. He grabbed Harry's shirt and brought him up to his eye level, glaring hatefully at him. He raised his fist and prepared to hit him, but paused when he noticed something new in his nephew's green orbs; fear. He smirked viciously before punching the boy in the face. "U-uh!" Harry fell back onto the counter, holding onto it to steady himself. Before he could react further, his uncle kicked his feet from under him, causing him to fall to the tiled floor. Soon he felt the familiar pain begin hit him all over. Petunia promptly excused herself from the room, as she usually did when her husband beat on the Freak, choosing to ignore the abuse rather than acknowledge and do something about it. Harry watched his aunt leave the room and his cousin cheer on his father. A sharp blow to the ribs and he cried out in pain, surprising Vernon and encouraging him beat the poor boy harder. Harry no longer held back his groans of pain and this pleased the fat man to no end.

When he was finished punishing Harry, he made the boy clean up the mess, remake breakfast and then do double chores. It was after eleven o'clock by the time he was finished with them. He slowly ascended the stairs and made his way to the bathroom. He was lucky he was allowed to bathe. His aunt couldn't stand to have filth in her "nice, clean home." He showered quickly, careful not to scrub his bruised skin too hard, and crept into his room. He dried himself off and dressed in his forest green boxers. He was so exhausted he didn't even notice his bedroom door open. He was towel drying his raven hair when he finally noticed the shadow on the floor, much too large to be his own. He heard the door close and turned to face his doorway. Large, meaty hands grasped his arms and pushed him against his desk. He let out a short noise of surprise and soon found his mouth covered. A large body pressed against him and fear took over.

XxXxX

It wasn't until a few weeks later that the Dursleys finally when out to dinner to celebrate Dudley's birthday. Harry knew this was his chance. He had been locked in his room with no means of escape, but that would not stop him. Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, Harry had been practicing wandless magic during his days as the D.A. leader. He wasn't proficient at it yet, but he did know a few simple spells, one of them being alohomora. Uncaring of the repercussions of his actions, he quickly used the spell to free himself and Hedwig, calling her to his shoulder before rushing down the stares and out the front door. He ran. He ran and he ran until he finally reached the neighborhood park. He sat down on the curb, panting. Hedwig resituated herself on his shoulder, hooting questioningly at him. He reached up and scratched her head lightly. "It's alright, girl. We're free. You can fly around now." Hedwig hooted and took off into the nearby woods, most likely to hunt. Harry lay back on the grass, relaxing for the first time in a long, long while. He was nearly asleep when he heard a twig snap. He shot up, looking behind him wearily. "Hedwig..?" He stared into the darkness. It wasn't long before his vision adjusted enough for him to make out glowing grey eyes and a large silver-white body. He recognized the beast immediately. As quickly as he could, he got up and instinctually reached for his wand. He soon remembered that he had forgotten to take his wand from the cupboard. '_Shit_!' There was no other choice; he ran for it.

He ran into the woods, the beast chasing after him. He stole a glance back at his pursuer and noticed two others chasing along side it. A huge brown boar and the largest bear he had ever seen; not that he had ever seen a real bear up close. His adrenalin pushed him faster. He was running as fast as the wind and was barely able to breathe. He knew that he wouldn't be able to keep up this speed. Soon after realizing this, he began to slow down. '_No_!_ Go faster, legs_!' But it was no use. After only a few more seconds of running he felt sharp fangs clasp onto his right leg. "Aaah!" The great white beast had his entire leg in its mouth, but its hold was surprisingly gentle. He felt himself fall to the ground and then being dragged off in an unknown direction. He was so tired from running. Soon all he saw was darkness.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

There you have it, chapter one. I hope you like it as much as I do. I'm not quite satisfied with it, but then again, it is 2:45 in the morning and I've been typing and revising this for hours. Ugh…

On a side note, for those of you who have ever seen Princess Mononoke, the beasts are about the same size as the ones in the movie. And if you _haven't_ seen it, get off your ass and buy it. (If you're lazy and, or cheap, just watch it on YouTube.) Ten points if you can guess who all three creatures are.


	2. Memory

Well, here we are at chapter two. I've been looking forward to writing this for a while, but got hung up on writing my South Park fic _Memories_. Check it out once it's posted. On a short side note, only one person guessed right and that person only got one creature's identity correct. **T-TrainOrTurkeyT**, you get 3 and ½ points. Hooray! –coughs- Thank you to all who reviewed and placed me on their various lists. I'd name you all, but that would take up the whole chapter. I would however like to say a special thanks to **Scifinerd92**for the compliment. It really brightened my day. Thank you. Now, I hope you all enjoy the chapter.

**WARNING!**: This chapter contains scenes of **rape **and** abuse** which are rated **NC-17** and are indicated with **XXX**. If you don't wish to read it, skip over it.

***I do NOT, in any way shape or form, condone the abuse of children. All characters are fictitious.**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.

XxXxX

Harry awoke hours later in a dark room. He shivered and soon realized he was lying on cold, hard stone. Was he at Hogwarts? He couldn't be. If he were he would have awoken in the Infirmary, being fussed over by Madame Pomfrey. He slowly opened his eyes, taking in his blurred surroundings. He saw many dark figures surrounding him as well as a large white blur. '_The wolf_…' Torches on the walls flickered with flames, allowing a small amount of light into the dreary room. He tried to stand, only to be kicked back to the floor hard. "Oof!" He shook his head as if to clear it. He heard laughter fill the room; familiar, cruel laughter. He had heard this same sound nearly two years ago in the dark graveyard. '_Deatheaters_.' Before he could push himself up to attempt an escape, he felt hands all over him, hitting and scratching and clawing at his already fragile body. He tried to fight back, tried to push the hands off of him, but the men were too strong. Then the hands stopped and the men parted, making a small walkway for their Master.

"Well well well…what have we here? A little lost lion," the Dark Lord chuckled. He enjoyed taunting the boy and he would do so for as long as he pleased. The boy would not escape, not this time, and it would not end quickly. Oh no… He would string out this boys pain until he begged for death, and then he would kill him slowly, very slowly. He turned to the three large beasts. "Good work Lucius. Crabbe, Goyle." All three beasts transformed back into their human forms, bowing to their Master. The Dark Lord turned back to his captive. The snakelike man bent down until he was eyelevel with Harry. The boy was panting and shivering in pain, barely able to keep his eyes open. Blood dripped from the scratches on his face. It was a delicious sight. He grasped Harry's chin in his fingers harshly, forcing him to look into his crimson eyes. "I am going to enjoy this, Potter," the man purred, making Harry shiver in disgust and fear. His captor released his chin, causing it to hit the stone floor with a light crack and issuing a whimper of pain from his swollen lips. He felt a rough tug and before he realized what was going on, his clothes were nearly all gone, leaving only his boxers. Bringing the boy's hips up he began to slowly remove the green cotton fabric. Harry, disoriented by pain, didn't seem to comprehend what was happening. He vaguely noticed long-fingered hands running down his neck, and down his back. He tensed. '_No_… _H-he's not_….' Along his spine. '_No_…' Claws caressing. '_**NOOOOOOO!**_'

The occupants of the room backed away as a large wave of blue light filled the room. Voldemort quickly put up wandless shields. The shields held off the wave of energy for mere moments before they broke down and the light too encompassed him. Soon they were all thrown into tortured memories; memories that never would have been believed…

**XXX**

Harry stared up at his attacker and came face to face with Vernon Dursley. His eyes widened and he tried desperately to push the man off him. This, of course, was impossible. The man was a whale; at least three times his size. There was no way his small arms could push such a large person away. Vernon flipped him over onto his stomach, the hard wood pressing into his abdomen. He opened his mouth to protest and a thick, bad-tasting fabric was pushed into the orifice. His uncle tied his wrists together with what looked like one of his aunt's good neckerchiefs. When he was successfully restrained, the man stripped him of his remaining clothing. Gagged, bound and naked, he looked back, seeing beady eyes filled with malice and lust. Harry shook beneath the large man, terrified. He felt a hand stroke his backside. "Nnn!" The evil man smirked and slid a finger between his nephew's cheeks, stroking his entrance. Harry struggled franticly to free himself, to get away. He felt a sudden painful heat on his bum, following a sharp crack. The noise came again and he realized he was being spanked. Before he could respond, he felt the familiar feel of metal connecting with his spine. He knew this feeling well, the feeling of being whipped for bad behaviour. He stood very still, knowing the more he struggled, the more pain he would feel. Soon the whipping stopped and his uncle went back to feeling him up, reaching beneath him and pulling on his nipples far too roughly. Tears pricked at the poor boy's eyes, threatening to spill. '_No_,' he thought. '_I won't give him the satisfaction_.' But when he felt a hot, searing pain course up his spine from his arse, he could not control it. The tears fell like waterfalls, streaking down his cheeks and wetting the parchment he had on his desk. After becoming comfortable in the tight heat of his nephew's arse, Vernon began thrusting without care, ripping and tearing the muscles from the inside. Blood ran down the fat man's cock and down Harry's thighs. He tried to scream, thinking maybe, just _maybe_, Petunia would hear him and stop her husband's horrible act. But his screams were blocked by what must have been the disgusting man's sock. He felt the pace of the thrusts increase and told himself it would all be over soon, that the pain would end. Sure enough, in about a minute's time, his uncle sped up even more before holding Harry's arse in place as he came into the boy. It was the most repulsive feeling Harry had ever felt; including the time he had accidentally touched a blast-ended skrewt. He could feel the man's seed filling his insides and he sobbed with the realization of what had just happened. Vernon untied his wrists and removed his sock from his mouth before quickly and quietly exiting the room, leaving Harry to deal with the thoughts of what had just transpired there…

He sobbed all night and well into the next morning, refusing to come out, despite the fact that he knew he would be punished. He just lay on his bed, alone with his thoughts.

'_I let him… I..allowed him to overpower me. Was my training all for nothing? If I can't defend myself against a muggle, how can I defeat the Dark Lord..? Without my wand…I'm defenseless._'

Eventually he calmed down enough to leave his room, showering vigorously before going down stairs and taking his aunt and uncle's punishment for refusing orders. He got on with his chores and went to bed as soon as he was finished; refusing the meager meal of bread and water his aunt offered him. He fell asleep, praying that nothing bad would happen this night. It did. He woke up to the feeling of a heavy body on top of him. A hand clamped over his mouth and the process began anew. Every night since was the same, always at midnight. He could no longer sleep in the bed that monster used him on and now slept in the corner between the wall and his desk, hugging his knees for protection, which he knew would never work. But he would survive this. He always did. Despite all odds he had lived to be almost sixteen, and right now, he was cursing that fact. He heard the familiar creak of his door and prepared himself for another round.

**XXX**

Severus Snape stared on in horror as he watched the Potter boy's home life play out before his eyes. Never had he imagined the saviour of the wizarding world to live in such a way. He had always imagined the arrogant brat to live in a luxurious mansion, being waited on hand and foot by legions of servants. The idea of abuse had never crossed his mind. Though he realized that he hadn't cared enough for the boy to notice the signs. He had his hands full with his own students; abuse was not uncommon in Slytherin house. But thinking back again he saw what should have been obvious. Potter's smaller than average height and build, malnutrition, the amateur glamour charms he noticed from first to third year, covering the bruises underneath, his shyness, lack of interaction with others his age growing up. The list went on. How could the Light's greatest spy, always observant, not notice such simple signs? And for that matter, how could it have slipped Dumbledore's notice? Then a horrifying thought crossed his mind. Did Albus know? A shiver ran through him at that thought. If the headmaster _did_know about Potter's home life, why not remove him from his relatives' home and place him in better care? Black would have done nicely, were he still alive. And now that the poor fool was gone, the wolf would gladly take the place of Harry's guardian. There were so many he people he knew from the Order and Hogwarts who would take the boy in a heartbeat. Even the potion's master himself, though he would never admit it, would take the little Gryffindor brat in to protect him from those horrid muggles. For Severus knew all too well what abuse could do to a person's psyche. The boy had already been through so much, the slightest push could be enough to throw him over the edge of sanity and into the sweet, comforting abyss of darkness which he himself had visited after learning of Lily's death all those years ago. If that happened, and Albus couldn't save the boy as the man had done for him, then there would be no hope for the Light. Though he had tried to convince himself and the Order that the Potter boy was not necessary to win the war, he it to be false. Harry Potter was the key to winning against the Dark, and he knew it. Something had to be done.

XxXxX

The visions flashed by the Dark Lord's eye in what seemed like an instant, and just as quickly as the light had appeared, it was gone; leaving a startled Voldemort staring down at a quivering Harry Potter. He was curled up in the fetal position, shaking terribly, and shielding his head with his arms, tears streaking down his bruised cheeks. He was whimpering, and when the Dark Lord gently prodded his side, he cried out as if being burned. His cries died down as the man backed away from the broken saviour and something tweaked in the evil man's chest. "Severus," he spoke quietly, "A calming draught." He held out his hand as the potions master brought himself out of his stupor and fumbled through his thick robes to find the correct vial. Finding and pulling it out, he handed it to the dangerously impatient man before him. The Deatheaters stared on in shock as their Lord pulled a screaming Potter up from his position on the floor and into his long, robed arms. Forcing the boy's mouth open with his spindly fingers, he poured the draught down his throat, stroking it so he would swallow. He held the squirming boy until the potion began to take effect. Harry's eyes fluttered shut and, to the Dark Lord's amusement, the boy snuggled into his warm chest. With a gentleness he didn;'t know he possessed, the Dark Lord picked up the-Boy-Who-Lived and began walking towards the door.

"My Lord?" Bellatrix spoke up uncertainly.

He turned to his followers, answering their unasked question. "Danger to my mission or not, the boy is of wizarding descent. No muggle should ever be able to harm him." And with that he walked out, taking Potter with him.

Nearly the whole hall was confused, apart from the understanding Lucius, Snape, Mcnair, and Nott, and a now jealous Bellatrix Lestrange. '_Defending his mortal enemy_," Severus thought as he watched his least-favorite student being carried away by the most evil dark wizard to grace their world in centuries. '_Perhaps Potter will live to see another day_.'

XxXxX

Yaaay! Chapter two done! Now you guys won't kill me. –grins- Naw, you guys are good readers. None of you bug me about updating. Which is good, because I'm stressed to the max right now and having "Hurry up! Update!" thrown in my face every time I open my inbox would only worsen things and cause me to be less motivated to write. And I have a lot of updating to get done, plus new oneshots I'm planning. I need to stop starting new stories and focus on the ones I've got going. Anyway, I'm rambling. Review if you care to comment on my writing or about the story in general.

Also, I've been very exhausted lately, so any grammatical errors or plot holes will be fixed later.


	3. Crimson

7/20/09

Hooray! She finally got off her lazy ass and wrote the next chapter! I really am too lazy. But to be fair, for my other stories I actually have a general idea of where they're going. With this, I have no idea what I'm going write next. It's also hard to keep Voldemort in character. He's a hard one to write. But I hope you all enjoy reading this regardless.

Disclaimer: Me, Joanne Rowling? You're kidding, right?

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The Dark Lord carried Potter through the manor towards his private rooms, deciding it would be safer to keep him there until further arrangements could be made. He had no idea what he was doing, or even why he was doing it. Here, in his arms, was the key to his downfall and he was treating the key like a mother does her child. He felt protective of the boy, raised and abused by muggles. He knew what it was like to feel as he does. The pain, the loneliness; memories of these emotions flashed through his icy heart. Potter's memories brought sympathy back to him, as well as hot rage. How **dare** a muggle lay his filthy, impure hands on a wizard child? How dare they be allowed to even glimpse their perfect world, and treat it with such blatant disrespect? And how could the supposed saviour of the wizarding world be left with people such as them? There was only one possible answer: Dumbledore. He knew how the man operated and what he was capable of. He also knew that he had refused to talk to Dippet about letting him stay at the castle during the summer while he was at Hogwarts. And now he was doing it to Potter. He sneered in disgust. Did the old fool honestly think he was causing no damage? Did he not see the danger he was putting the boy in? The possibilities? He was putting his student in the same situation which had turned him into what he was: a cold-hearted, revenge-seeking abomination. Perhaps the boy would stay pure enough to avoid this fate, but he could not avoid being sent to his death by the people who were supposed to protect and love him. They were so ready for a scapegoat that they would send their own friend to his death so that they could keep their pitiful lives. The Dark Lord's inner ramblings ended when he reached his chamber doors. He turned the right knob, passing through the wards, and walked straight towards the bed, gently placing the injured boy on the soft comforter. He stood back, looking at his nemesis clearly for the first time since that night nearly fifteen years ago. The boy was small and lithe, looking to be no bigger than a girl of his age. His skin was pale and fragile-looking, littered with injuries. Voldemort removed his wand from his sleeve and muttered a few simple healing charms. Many of the bruises cleared, as well as the cuts, scrapes, and scratches, but the scars remained. Lying there, limp, naked, slightly curled in on himself, he looked so frail. Like a china doll that's been cracked, but was still beautiful. The blood dripping from the corner of his mouth only seemed to add to the effect. He didn't know what it was about the deep crimson color that enticed him so, but seeing it on the boy made his skin crawl in the strangest of ways. Harry shivered and Voldemort levitated him, pulling back the covers and then placing him beneath them. The injured boy snuggled into the warmth. Sighing, the Dark Lord called a house elf to him.

"What mays Pippy be doing for you, Sir?" asked a being about the size of Dobby with bright blue eyes and auburn hair sticking out of his ears. He seemed rather spritely.

"I need you to fetch me a blood replenishing potion from my private stores," Voldemort stated elegantly.

"Yes, Master, right aways!" the elf shouted enthusiastically, popping away to fetch the potion.

A few silent moments later, another pop was heard and Pippy handed his master the vial. He looked towards the boy on the bed and his impossibly large smile brightened. "Will little Sir be staying the night?"

Voldemort looked towards his favorite elf. "Yes. He will be staying for an undetermined period of time. Now off with you, Pippy. Bring my breakfast at the usual time." Before the elf could pop away, he added, "And some for the boy. Something light."

"Yes, Master. Be sleepings well."

Another pop and the room went silent.

Turning his attention back to the boy, he gently pried his mouth open and inserted the potion, rubbing his throat gently to induce swallowing. Once he saw that the whole mouthful had been downed, he summoned a plush armchair and sat down, making himself comfortable; wondering what in the seven depths of Hell he was doing.

XxXxX

Harry awoke with a strong ache pulsing through his body. He lay there, waiting for it to fade and when it didn't, he forced himself awake anyway. As his eyelids fluttered open, the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his room at the Dursleys' and he wasn't in the Hogwarts Infirmary. The blurry bed hangings above him were a deep, bloody crimson and the bedposts were wrought iron. He blinked and pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around. Even without his glasses he could tell the room was lavishly furnished. '_No, definitely not the Dursleys'._' He looked all around the large room, trying to remember where he was and how he'd gotten there. All he remembered was pain, strong arms and deep crimson eyes. Crimson… He looked to his left suddenly and spotted a dark-cloaked figure with chalky white skin and red eyes he'd recognize anywhere. '_Voldemort._' Despite being a mere few feet away from his enemy, Harry remained quite calm, his instincts not going into overdrive as they normally did around the man. There was no danger here. Deciding it was rude to stare and say nothing, he quietly spoke. "Hello, Tom."

The Dark Lord stared at his peculiar guest and raised a nonexistent eyebrow. He quickly concluded that the boy was rather dim to be so relaxed in the presence of his arch nemesis. Did he think that just because a wand was not pointed at his person that he was safe? How…stupid. But the tiny little voice in the back of his head was quick to remind him that he _wasn't_ pointing his wand at the boy and that maybe he did not sense a threat. The voice made sense. Potter's instincts had saved him many times in his short life and if they weren't telling him to run, he most likely wouldn't. This thought disturbed him. If the by didn't sense a threat, what did that mean? Perhaps he should crucio the boy to remind him of who it was he was dealing with. Just as that thought was materializing in his head, he heard Potter speak once again. "Tom?"

He sneered at the boy. "Voldemort."

"But that's not your name."

He was just about to hex the stupid child when the voice reminded him that what he said was true. No matter how much he hated it, Tom was his formal name. He let out an aggravated sigh and was about to comment to the boy on his lack of tact when a loud pop resounded about the room. The boy jumped as a rather large blur appeared in front of him and Tom nearly snickered when his house elf scared the boy further with his incredibly loud voice.

"Good morning, young sir!"

Harry nearly fell off the bed in surprise when he realized he was being affronted by a very loud house elf.

"I haves your breakfast, young sir. Just as Master ordered."

The elf shoved a tray at Harry, making the unidentifiable contents of said tray spill. The elf then hopped off the bed to hand his Master his breakfast.

"Enjoy, Master," he bowed. "Little sir."

The elf popped away, leaving an amused Dark Lord staring at a nearly traumatized Harry. The whole ordeal had obviously been disconcerting for the boy, which gave the older man a warm, sick pleasure. He'd have to have Pippy watch after the boy after a performance like that. Merlin knew he needed more entertainment.

After a few minutes, Harry finally broke from his stupor to stare down at the tray the elf had handed him. He squinted, not able to see his breakfast, even at so short a distance. Shaking his head, the Dark Lord levitated the boy's glasses onto his face and watched as he started at suddenly being able to see. Harry looked down at his meal, a bowl of hot porridge, fruit, toast, and apple juice, and blinked. This was the largest serving of food he'd gotten all summer. Voldemort had ordered this for him? He looked up at his enemy, not knowing what to say; though he supposed he should say something. "Thank you."

Voldemort glared at the boy. "Eat." He watched as the boy began to eat slowly, surprised that the starved boy wasn't scarfing his food ravenously. "Why are you eating so slowly, Potter? You must be hungry. Just look at yourself."

He looked up at the Dark Lord and replied, "If I eat too fast, my stomach will reject it. I wouldn't want to soil such nice silk sheets," then continued eating.

'_So the boy has some sense after all,_' he thought. Tom had no response for that and so he began eating himself, his breakfast a tad bit more rich. Bacon and eggs, toast with jam, and pumpkin juice. By the time he had finished eating, Harry was done and was, once again, staring at him. The boy's brow furrowed slightly. "Why are you helping me?"

"Helping? Why would I help _you_, Potter?"

"That's what _I_ want to know," he stated, slightly irritably.

Looking at his hands, the Dark Lord sighed before making eye contact with the boy and answering, "I don't know, honestly. I should have tortured and killed you by now, hanging your body, or certain parts of it, in Diagon Alley for the whole of wizarding London to see." He observed Harry, who had paled slightly, and continued. "But I didn't. After finding out what those despicable…_muggles_," he spat, "did to you, I had no choice but to take action. You are a pain in my side, a bump in the road on my path to victory, and I should have stomped out your life long ago. But no muggle will harm a wizarding child, not while I'm alive to punish them."

To say that Harry was shocked was an understatement. Voldemort wanted to protect wizarding children from abusive muggles? He had a reason, a cause behind his actions? That was just silly. He knew from past encounters with the man that he was insane and couldn't possibly do any good for their world. _But he saved you_, his own little voice whispered. _He must not be all that bad if he wants the Dursleys dead._ Harry instantly felt disgusted with himself for even thinking such a thing. Yes, he hated his family whom tortured and abused him for nearly fifteen years, but he didn't want them dead. Did he..?

During his internal conflict, Harry did not notice one of Voldemort's Death Eaters walk into the room and whisper something to his Master. He barely heard the soft fluttering of robes as the Dark Lord rose from his seat and turned towards him. "Well, Potter, it would seem I have business to attend to. Stay here and do try to keep out of trouble. I don't want my manor exploding."

Startled out of his thoughts, Harry simply nodded to the man before he and his follower exited the chamber. He heard the telltale click of a lock and what sounded like "Have him moved tomorrow." Being without his wand and too exhausted to attempt a wandless escape, he lay back down on the soft pillows. There was no need to exert his already tired body. With no Dursleys there to hurt him, he soon found himself drifting into sleep.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

And there you have chapter three. I'm not sure I'm satisfied with it, as Voldemort is far too out of character for my liking, but I'm not sure how to make him more like he was in the books. Then again, the real Dark Lord would never bum his nemesis. I enjoy playing with villains. ^-^ Now, make a lonely writer happy and tell me what you think.

Thanks for reading.


	4. Gone

8/28/09

Here we are at chapter four. Before you read this chapter, I recommend going back and rereading chapter three as I made some minor changes to it. I hope they made Voldemort just a tad bit more in character. I did realize something though. Beyond memories and short encounters with the man, the books don't really give him much character, besides utter madness, of course. Anyway, enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer in previous chapters.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXXxX

Over the next few days, Harry was moved into his own rooms and visited by various healers, including Narcissa Malfoy whom, he soon discovered, was a very sweet woman. He supposed it was her motherly instinct that caused her to dote on him, coming in to check his health and to see if he needed anything. To be honest, he quite liked it. It almost felt as though he had a mother again. After about ten day, Voldemort was sick of Harry lazing about and allowed the boy free range of the manor, with a few boundaries, of course; no wandering the dungeons or invading his private study. Most of his days from then on were spent out in the gardens or in the manor's extensive library. He found that without the pressures of his professors and Hermione, he was actually able to study rather well. He read every book he could get his hands on; learning more than he ever did at school. He soon discovered that he had an uncanny knack for both the dark arts and potions. Building up his courage, he eventually asked Snape if he could perform practical studies. With a bit of convincing persuasion from Lady Malfoy, which happened to involve a few threats and curses, and an overactive Pippy, Severus began supervising Harry's potions sessions. After three days of the labs not exploding, the man finally calmed down enough to notice Harry's progressive skills. He would have to report this to Dumbledore...

One afternoon, Lord Voldemort decided to take a walk through the gardens to clear his head. He was getting sick of his incompetent followers, failing on missions and bringing him constant bad news. If only he could recruit witches and wizards of intelligence worthy of working beside him. But this was war and he would take all the soldiers he could get, intelligent or otherwise. He was about to delve deeper into his thoughts when he saw movement on the other side of a rose bush. Wand out, he aimed it at the person only to lower it when he realized it was only Harry, picking herbs off a nearby bush. He watched him for a while, observing. The boy seemed very happy, smiling and humming to himself. He looked far happier thanhis spies had ever seen him at Hogwarts. This thought bothered him. Suddenly, the boy looked up at him. "Hello, Tom."

Voldemort glared at him and Harry just chuckled. "Alright, alright. 'Lord Voldermort.'

He sighed. The child just didn't seem to get it. He acted as though he was in no danger at all, like he no longer feared him. He began to walk away when he noticed Harry following. He glared again. "I'm a busy man, Potter. What do you want?" he asked icily.

"Nothing," the boy responded.

Voldemort merely sighed deeper and kept walking; this time alone.

That evening found Voldemort reading in the drawing room, Harry curled up by the fire in his animagus form; a small black wolf. He seemed to enjoy this form and often followed Tom using it. It was also a safe way to look around the manor as not many of Voldemort's followers liked the idea of him staying there. Of course he had the protection of Narcissa, and Snape made sure he stayed out of trouble. Over all, life was good.

Tom looked down upon wolf-Harry, thinking quietly to himself. The boy seemed to be of normal health now. Soon he wouldn't need nutrition potions and dietary supplements. This was good, as it meant he wouldn't need looking after and could be returned to the Light. If the papers were anything to go by, the Light side was frantically searching for their saviour. It made him chuckle evilly to think on all those people, wondering when their ends would come and if their Golden Boy would be found safe and able to fight their nightmares away. The cowards. Hiding behind a child and putting the weight of the war on his shoulders. Did they honestly think that a sixteen year old boy would be able to defeat a man with over seventy years magical experience? The fools. He knew the boy had relied on instinct and luck to survive these past five years and that in the end he would be easily defeated. They were basically sending the boy off to his death. It was almost cruel. But that was how they are, how they were when he was young. It was how he became what he was now. Maybe, if he had been shown kindness and understanding, if Dumbledore had listened and taken him in over the summers instead of sending him back to the cruel laughter of the muggle children, he would not have turned out so...wrong. Through his thoughts, he felt something warm rest on his leg. He looked down to see concerned, wolfy eyes staring up at him. Forgetting who it was, he pet the wolf softly. And that was all he knew before he fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

XxXxX

The next morning, Voldemort woke in his chair, back aching slightly. '_I have to stop sleeping in chairs_,' he thought, taking into consideration his embarrassingly old age. '_At least I'm not one hundred and fifty_.'

Preparing to stand up, he noticed a weight on his thigh. When he looked down, he nearly had an explosion of accidental magic at the sight of Harry Potter with his head and arms resting on his lower half. Breathing deeply so as to calm down, he gently removed the boy from his thighs and placed him back down on the rug. After he was sure that the boy was still asleep, he quickly swept out of the room and into the main hall. "WORMTAIL!!!"

After five minutes of impatient waiting, a large, fat rat made its way over to him, transforming back into a rat-like man before squeaking out, "Y-yes, My Lord?"

"Your arm."

Peter held out his arm, preparing himself for the pain he knew would come. Voldemort held the limb still as he placed his wand on the mark and called Snape. The man arrived promptly, looking ruffled as though he had dressed quickly. He bowed before speaking, "Yes, My Lord?"

"I want the boy removed."

Severus looked up at the man. "My Lord?"

"Harry Potter is healthy enough to be taken back to the Light. I want him gone."

"Of course, My Lord. May I ask why, so suddenly?"

"He is the enemy. I waited for him to return to his full health and power before sending him back; he has reached that stage in his recovery. You know I hate weak opponents when it comes to wizards."

"Yes, My Lord, I understand. Shall I wake him now?"

"No, wait until the boy awakes, himself."

Severus was about to question this, but thought better of it. "Yes, My Lord."

And with that, both men went of into the parlor for a morning drink.

XxXxX

Bellatrix LeStrange was ecstatic. That blasted brat was to be extracted from the manor. She had been walking to the kitchen when she overheard her lord speaking to that overgrown bat. "I want him gone," he had said. Oh happy day! If her Lord wanted him gone, she would get him gone for him. She was up the stairs in a flash and made her way quietly into the boy's rooms. He woke with a start at being grabbed and after she had silencioed him, she promptly dragged him from his bed and out into the hall.

"You're not wanted here, boy," she grinned. "The Dark Lord wants you out."

Harry thrashed about frantically, trying to scream out for help, but it was useless. His screams were silenced by the spell and he was too panicked to reverse it. He didn't understand what was going on. What had he done to deserve being dragged out of his bed by this mad woman? Before he knew it, the feel of smooth marble beneath his legs turned to that of rough gravel. Soon he was stood up and pushed out the large, wrought iron front gates. The heavy bars slammed closed before he could right himself and Bellatrix's cruel laughter rang through his ears.

"Get away with you, boy. Run back to your precious Light."

And with that she was gone, and he was alone. He stood there, shivering in the cool morning air. What should he do, stand there and call for Tom? Go back to the Light? Without any direction, Harry began walking away from the place he had come to call home.

XxXxX

At around 9:30, Tom was becoming concerned. Harry never slept in that late. Deciding it was "time for the boy to go" he sent Severus to fetch him. It wasn't long before the man came back without Harry in tow. He stood immediately, sensing something wrong from the man.

"My Lord," Severus breathed out. "Potter is gone."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXXxX

Dun dun duuuuuuuun!! Lol. Well there you have chapter four. I hope you all enjoyed. Also, sorry it's so short, I've been having trouble with this story. Any ideas for future chapters are welcome.


	5. Found

9/13/09

Helloooooo… -smiles sweetly- How is everyone? Excited to read, I hope. But before you get started, I would like to point out a few things:

1) Ron and Hermione are not engaged in this fic. The wedding joke later on is just that, a joke. I hope people enjoy my humor.

2) Narcissa Malfoy is very sweet and polite in this fic. I never understood how people of such high standing could be written to have such poor manners; it's embarrassing to nobles everywhere. And so I wrote her very proper with a sweet, feminine charm.

3) Harshaft is a figment of my imagination. I know nothing of British towns and countryside, so I simply made stuff up.

Now, enjoy!

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXXxX

The two panicked. Searching inside and outside the manor, even outside of the wards. All that could be found were drag marks next to heel prints, and then bare footprints leading away from the gates. It didn't take Voldemort long to put two and two together. This had Bellatrix written all over. He soon found himself cursing the crazed witch out of her peaceful sleep, her screams quickly turning to moans when she realized who had cast crucio on her. He quickly cut the curse, sneering down in disgust at her lust-filled gaze. "Where is the boy?"

"What do you care about him, My Lord? It's all been taken care of," she replied sweetly, or as sweet as Bellatrix Lestrange can sound without it being fake.

"Snape was supposed to take care of it!" Another crucio.

Bellatix cried out, resisting the urge to touch herself in front of her Master.

"But My Lord, he's gone. I did as you wanted. Why did that overgrown bat have to do it?" she asked as though she were being pet and not tortured.

Deciding this wasn't working, he stopped the curse, straightening up and giving her one of his death glares meant for his worst enemies. "Because, Severus is the only one who could deliver the boy back to the Light safely and without questions. What if the boy dies trying to get back? Where does that leave me? How boring would the final battle be without the epic last fight?!" he growled.

Bella's eyes widened. "Is that why you kept him here, My Lord? Brought him back to health? For the final battle, the last between you?"

Voldemort's glare sharpened.

"I…I had no idea," Bellatrix spoke softly before bowing low to the ground, her face touching the floor. "Forgive me, My Lord, I was unaware."

"You are _not_ forgiven. You shall be punished for acting without orders. Severus," he ordered, and the man entered from the hallway. "Take Lestrange to the dungeons. She is to be," he noticed the woman lick her lips in anticipation, "left there with no contact and no torture."

"But, My Lord!"

"Don't," he came up close to her face, "test me, Bellatrix. You have already tried my patience enough."

The woman held her tongue as her wand was taken from her and she was dragged away to the agony of solitary confinement.

Each morning, Voldemort would have his followers check the papers for news of Harry's whereabouts. It wasn't until about a week in that he heard one of his Death Eaters shout for his attention.

"My Lord!"

"What is it, Morrison?" he asked, quickly having the paper handed to him. There, on the front cover, was a large picture of Potter in the pajamas he had last been seen in. The boy looked haggard, bags under his eyes indicating lack of sleep. With his messy hair mussed up further and his clothes hanging off of him, torn and dirty, he looked like utter shit. He soon began to read the words following the photograph.

**Chosen One Found!**

Late last evening ,we received a call from a wizard in Harshaft claiming to have found The-Boy-Who-Lived on a deserted dust road on his way home from the local pub. Aurors were disbatched from the Ministry and, upon close inspection, the boy's identity was confirmed. While the wizarding world is certainly glad to have him back, many questions still remain. What was the young man doing in Harshaft, miles away from his home, why was he dressed in high grade silk pajamas, torn from an obviously hazardous journey, and most importantly, why does he refuse to answer questioned asked of him by the Aurors and the Minister himself? We can only hope that these and many other questions will be answered in time.

- Matilda Hogwump, The Daily Profit

The Dark Lord nearly sighed out loud in relief. His nemesis was alive. That stupid voice in the back of his head asked his why he was so relieved. He shrugged it off and told himself it was so they could fight another day. Sadly, not even he believed that.

XxXxX

Harry sat in the master bedroom at Number 12, knowing no one would think he would be there. It was the room of Sirius' dead parents, the place where the heads of the family slept. He should feel uncomfortable here, but he didn't, because he _was_ the head of this household now. It was all his. Sirius had given him everything, including his large bank account. Not that it mattered. Harry had more than enough gold to help him through the rest of school and afterwards. But he liked the solitude of this room; it gave him space to think, to breathe. He needed the space. He felt so… He couldn't think of any words to describe his pain anymore. He almost didn't feel anything at all. All he could do was try to keep breathing and wonder what he did wrong.

Days passed and he began to feel a little better. Hermione helped a lot, along with the twins, who refused to stop telling jokes until Harry cracked a smile. An effective method, he had to admit. But during those few nights when he would lay in the large, cold bed of the Black ancestors, all three would console him. Ron tried to help, telling him things would get better, but in the end he usually just ended up asking him upsetting questions. Luckily, Hermione would step in and give the redhead a good smack with one of her many books or magazines, promptly silencing him before he could upset their friend further. Harry would just laugh at their antics and wonder when the wedding would be.

August came and went and soon the Golden Trio was shopping for new supplies in Diagon Alley. While Hermione and Ron went off to Magical Menagerie to buy owl pellets and cat food, Harry went into Madame Malkin's for new clothes. He was sick of wearing clothes given to him by those muggles. He was an heir, of sorts, to two families and deserved to dress higher than that of a checkered, baggy-skinned elephant. He tried on many outfits, both wizard and muggle, and even some new underwear, all the while being tended to courteously by the plump, caring witch. Occasionally she would ask him how he was and how he was fairing health wise. He would just smile at her politely and answer, "I'm fine, Ma'am. Thanks for the concern."

After gathering a large armful of bags, then having them conveniently shrunk down by Madame Malkin and placing them in his pockets, he found his friends and finished his shopping. Throughout the day, Harry added a few unnecessary items to his list of purchases, including far more potions ingredients than were required, a few new books of various topics, and a new pair of flying goggles. The goggles were understandable, but the other items had his friends gawking at him in shock and pleasant surprise. As they made their way toward the exit gate, each holding ice creams from Florean Fortescue's, two shadows made their way out of Knockturn Alley, accidentally bumping into the three. Harry looked down at his newly ice cream stained shirt and looked back up, about to tell whoever had bumped into him off, when green eyes caught blue. '_Narcissa…_'

They stared at each other a few moments before being interrupted by a loud, obnoxious voice. "Watch where you're going, Scar Head!" Draco shouted as he dusted off his robes.

Narcissa frowned and began to chastise her son in her soft, flowing voice, "Now Draco, darling, mind your manners. It was us who bumped into them. Apologize to your schoolmates."

Draco, not seeming surprised at his mother's words, swiftly apologized, though his tone was rather icy still, and made his way around the three. Narcissa stared back at them apologetically. "Please forgive, Draco. He can be rather ill-tempered," she said politely before walking after her son.

Ron gawked after her and Hermione smiled. "What a lovely woman," she stated curiously before continuing on her way, dragging Ron along with her. Harry simply stared after the kind blonde and her haughty offspring. She seemed as nice as ever, as though nothing had changed and they were old acquaintances bumping into each other. If she wasn't hostile to him, would Tom be the same? His chest tweaked nervously and he slowly began to follow his friends. "I hope so…" he whispered.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXXxX

I wanted to continue on and make it longer, but that last line just seemed _perfect_ to end it at. Sorry everyone. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. Also, Bellatrix wasn't fooled by the Dark Lord's excuse any more than he himself was. She's not as crazy as she seems... -Cheshire cat grin-

Next chapter, Harry returns to Hogwarts and the questions start flying. Can he withstand it?


	6. Good Evening, Headmaster

11/19/09

After months of waiting, your patience finally pays off. I'm back, with new ideas and a darker, brooding Harry. Oh, sweet evil. This could be considered a filler chapter, but I've never been into labeling my work. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

XxXxX

September 1st came quickly and the Golden Trio found themselves being hustled through King's Cross and onto the Hogwarts Express.

"Now take care, and watch out for each other. Don't go running into trouble," Mrs. Weasley warned.

"We won't, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione assured.

"We'll be careful, Mum. Promise," Ron added, hugging his mother goodbye.

She hugged each of them in turn and held Harry tight as she whispered, "Be safe," in his ear.

Soon they were off, speeding towards their sixth year at Hogwarts. Harry wasn't looking forward to their arrival. It was hard enough keeping unwanted questioners out of the compartment; they would be harder to avoid on the grounds and in the halls. He knew the Light wanted answers. He himself had unanswered questions that burned inside him, scarring his heart. He had to avoid Dumbledore and he had to contact Tom. His insides twisted tighter at these thoughts. He knew he was loosing faith in the leader of the Light and his opinion was slowly turning curiously towards the other side.

A soft hand lightly touched his shoulder. "Harry..?"

He smiled at his friend. He had a feeling that, when he decided which side was his own, she would accept his decision, if not stand by his side. "I'm alright, Hermione. I'm just a bit distracted."

She nodded, worry still obvious in her eyes, and went back to trying to lecture a very reluctant Ron on the importance of studying this year.

Deciding not to allow his thoughts to drift too deep again, Harry turned towards the window and shut his eyes in an attempt to calm himself, unwittingly falling into a deep slumber.

When he awoke, it was evening. The sun had set and Ron was pulling on his school robes.

"You're awake," he stated lightly. "You should get your robes on before Hermione gets back and puts them on for you."

Harry smiled, as he knew his female friend would do just that. He stood, stretching as he did, and reached up to bring down his trunk. As he changed for the feast, his nervousness began to crawl up from his stomach and into his chest, like millions of wriggling snakes. He asked himself many things as the train pulled to a stop. Who would ask questions and how many, would anyone suspect betrayal, and, most importantly, what was he to do on the issue of the headmaster?

The train stopped and the students made their way onto the platform. Harry and Ron followed them to the carriages, meeting up with Hermione, and hopping onto a carriage with Neville, Luna and Ginny. Behind them, Draco sat in another carriage with his bodyguards and friends. The blonde stared intently at Harry as the thestrals began their trek to the castle gates.

As they departed their carriages and walked up the dirt path to the main entrance, Harry's friends encircled him, keeping meddlers from asking upsetting questions. He smiled gratefully at them and enjoyed the peaceful walk, looking around the familiar area. As they passed the Forbidden Forest, a pair of glowing red eyes caught his attention from within the trees. He slowed and stared back, noticing the eyes followed him. He stopped.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, walking back and standing beside him. "Harry, what is it?"

Harry shook his head and turned back to begin walking again. "It's nothing."

XxXxX

The Great Hall was brightly lit and decorated in glittering gold and silver, giving it an even brighter appearance. Second years and up sat at their familiar house tables, chatting with friends and talking about their holiday.

Harry and the others sat at the Gryffindor table, along with Luna, who got many stares. The whispers began immediately as his fellow Gryffindors crowded around to ask questions. Lucky for Harry, McGonagall chose that precise moment to enter with the new batch of first years. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and lay his forehead against the smooth wood of the table.

He listened as the eleven year olds were sorted into their houses and as Dumbledore gave the usual warnings from Filch and told his students to be extremely cautious in these troubled times. Soon after, the old man clapped his hands and the feast appeared before them.

Harry took a little of this and a little of that and began munching slowly. He wasn't really all that hungry. The food was delicious, but the hall lacked the company he desired. There was no Narcissa, smiling and engaging in conversation, no rowdy Death Eaters spouting their macho nonsense, and no Tom. Tom… Yes, Severus was here, but he was at the staff table, and the stoic man had never been one for idle conversation anyway.

When dinner ended and desert appeared, Harry took a small chocolate cupcake and ate it down quickly. After clearing the crumbs from his lips with his napkin, he promptly stood and exited the hall, garnering concerned looks from his friends.

As Harry was walking up the stairs towards the portrait of the Fat Lady, he felt a finger tap his shoulder. It was Professor Snape. "Yes, Professor? Did you need something?"

"The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office, Mr. Potter," he replied curtly.

Harry sighed, nodded, and began making his way back down the stairs beside his professor. When they reached the floor Harry needed to be on, the Potions Master leaned in close to his ear and whispered a gruff, "Be careful," before making his way down another flight of stairs.

He stared after the man a few moments before making his way down the hall, to the stone gargoyle that guarded his destination. He listed off sweets until the great beast moved out of his way and the staircase began winding upward. He walked onto a step and let it take him to the door of the headmaster's office.

He knocked, and when there came no answer, he went in. The room hadn't changed since last he'd been there, the day Dumbledore tried to talk to him about Sirius. The old fool knew nothing of pain. He did, however, know of the abuse that had started the pain, been the one to sit idly by as it continued, and keep Sirius cooped up in that awful house with nothing to do, no sense of accomplishment for the Light, until it drove the reason out of the animagus' mind. He sighed.

As he was reaching past the desk to pet a sleeping Fawkes, the door opened behind him. "Ah, Harry my boy! Good to see you!"

Harry took a few deep breaths, clearing his mind as he had trained himself to do and turned, avoiding eye contact with the strong legilimens. He nodded in greeting. "Headmaster."

"Now, Harry, no need to be so formal with me. We are friends, after all," he stated cheerfully.

Harry resisted the juvenile urge to punch a hole through the man's face. Instead, he took his usual seat across from the headmaster's chair. He watched the man sit down. "You wished to see me?"

"Yes, I did. Before we begin our talk, would you care for a lemon drop?"

Considering the possibility of the sweet being laced with a truth serum, he politely declined.

"Tea then?"

"No, thank you."

The man's smile wavered momentarily, before coming back full swing. "Alright. Harry, I was hoping to speak to you about your whereabouts over the summer."

He knew it, he knew the man would ask, and he had the perfect response, courtesy of having actually read the student handbook this summer. '_Thank you, Hermione,_' he thought, grinning inwardly.

"I'm sorry, headmaster, but unless you wish to discuss something school related with me, I'm afraid I can't help you."

To say that Dumbledore looked stunned would be an understatement; the man looked positively gob smacked. It took him a few moments to recover. "Harry," he started slowly, "surely you don't mind speaking with me? I'm only looking out for you."

"No, sir. Unless you called me here to offer me tutoring or to discuss my O.W.L.s, we have nothing to talk about. It is against the rules for professors to meddle in the personal lives of their students without reasonable cause. Seeing as I am alive and well, you have no reason to ask."

With that, Harry stood and made his way to the door, turning as he reached it. "Goodnight, headmaster."

And he left, Dumbledore glaring at his back.

XxXxX

There's chapter six. I know it's not very long, but if I continued, I wouldn't be able to stop. And trust me, you'll want my next chapter to be kept separate from this one. I introduce an original character and the possibility of a little HP/OC. I know, I know, this is a HP/LV fic, but I can have a little fun. –winks-

Until next time, happy reading.


	7. Letters, Soldiers, and Agreements

12/21/09

Hey, everyone. Hope you like my story so far. Thanks to all who reviewed and placed me on their various lists. I feel so loved. xD

In this chapter: HG/RW RW bashing.

Please enjoy.

XxXxX

Two weeks into the semester, Harry decided to write Tom. It was a simple letter; one someone might write to a friend or family member. Knowing Dumbledore was watching him closely, he placed a few complicated charms on the letter and envelope. He addressed it to Tom Riddle in case anyone working for the Ministry managed to get and break through his magicked letter. Lucky for him not many people knew of that name.

Late one evening, as the rest of the castle slept, he took the letter up to the Owlery and called for Hedwig. Holding her by the scruff, he placed dillusionment and other appearance-changing charms on her, making her go from white to a plain looking brown. The snowy owl hooted in outrage.

"I'm sorry, girl, but I don't want you hexed," Harry said as he reached up and stroked her soft head. "You're too easily recognized."

The nearly invisible owl nibbled on his fingers affectionately and he smiled, petting down her back and repeating the motion. After a few minutes of this Harry sent her off with the letter and then left back to Gryffindor Tower.

He spent the next few days looking to the skies for a reply, and for his friend's safe return.

XxXxX

Lord Voldemort was in a very important meeting with his inner circle. They were discussing ways of breaching the wards around Hogwarts. The old coot had really outdone himself this year. Not even animals or plant life could weasel inside. Lucius, newly released from prison, was asking specific questions of Severus, questions he was sure were important, but he just couldn't find the necessary will to listen.

He couldn't concentrate. Something was bugging him from the back of his mind, some unknown want that needed fulfilling. But what was it? He had everything he needed here; what could possibly be missing?

He was just about to release a bored yawn when an owl swooped in through an open window, a large, snow-white owl.

His jaw nearly dropped in surprise. Everyone in the European wizarding world knew that was Potters owl. Before his followers could notice and hex her, he quickly stood, calling their attention to him. "Meeting adjourned."

Several of the Death Eaters were about to protest when he sent one of his fiercest glares at them. They promptly removed themselves from the room, but not before a few of them glimpsed white feathers.

With the room clear, the Dark Lord called the owl to him. She obeyed, landing on his arm and holding out her leg for him to retrieve the letter. He did so and she moved to perch on the armrest of his chair.

He stroked the owl delicately, taking in the smoothness of her plume. "You must be very clever to make it through my wards."

She held her head up in pride. Yes, she was a fine owl. He opened the envelope, taking a moment to scoff at his birth name, and continued to pet the bird as he read.

Dear Tom,

How are you? It's been a while since we've spoken, and I've never written to you before, but I hope you don't hate me. I, though I still hold a slight grudge for all the suffering you've caused my family and friends, have forgiven you in a sense. I see no reason to hold onto the past when that past is so full of bitterness and hate. Why not let bygones be bygones? I know you may still wish me dead, because of the Prophesy or your own hatred, but know that I do not wish to fight you.

How are the others? I hope they are fairing well, especially Narcissa. I ran into her and Draco in Diagon Alley. She looks well, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Has Lucius returned yet? I hope so. It would make both her and their son so happy, I'm sure. Even though Draco and I are rivals and he appears to hate me, I no longer hate him and wish to become friends with the stubborn Slytherin. Please pass on this knowledge of my wish to Nascissa.

Things are getting dangerous here. Dumbleore no longer trusts me, and I fear Ron has become his spy. Hermione stands by me, but I'm not sure if our friendship will win over the affection she so obviously holds for the young Weasley. I hope she will choose to stay by my side. I have few trusted allies, and I am gathering more; more students who are suspicious of Dumbledore's intensions and wish to join my cause for what I call the Grey Side. I am not against you, but I am for myself. I will no longer be that man's pawn.

Do not misunderstand me, I will not hand over the location of the Order. Many of them are blinded by the Light and seek justice for the wrongs you and your followers have committed against them. Some are dear to me, others I could care less about, but most are good people and strong fighters. I would not betray them to you, but instead will try and find a way to turn them to my side.

I was wondering if we might speak over the upcoming winter break. I wish to discuss the possibility of a compromise. I know that if your methods were toned down you could recruit more followers and possibly make our world better. You're not an evil man, Tom. I know that now.

Please write back with your answer so that we may discuss a meeting place.

Sincerely,

Harry James Potter

As he finished reading, Voldemort thought on two things; a compromise could work, and Potter's vocabulary matched his own at that age. He smirked.

'_How interesting…_'

XxXxX

Harry Potter had become a busy young man. He was working hard to become top in his class, not a hard feat after all that studying over the summer, and to gather more followers. Ha had recruited many Ravenclaws, always willing to take in the ideas of someone of similar intellect, Hufflepuffs and was already making headway with some of the Slytherins. Out of the Gryffindors, he only had one he could trust, and that was Neville. He wanted to wait to add Hermione to the group, in case she ended up following the headmaster. It was a sad yet necessary precaution.

Eventually, when he'd gathered the trustworthy, he took them to his in-school headquarters, the Chamber of Secrets. There he had control over who came and went. It was a nice perk if ever someone betrayed him and tried to leave or reenter the group. He would have said person cornered and obliviated to silence them. It seemed a rather harsh tactic, but a smart one nonetheless. He'd keep his secrets.

In the circle of most trusted, there was Neville, Luna, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and a Slytherin by the name of Blaise Zabini. Harry had met Blaise on the train ride to school. At first he had seemed cold and dark, but it turned out he was just a pensive young man. When he heard of the Grey Side from a housemate, he'd asked to join, tired of not standing up for his own beliefs which seemed to mirror Harry's. And so, Blaise had joined Harry's army and quickly upped his rank.

Under the Most Trusted came the Generals, two for each house. Justin and Ernie Macmillan commanded Hufflepuff, Luna and Cho Chang commanded Ravenclaw, and Blaise and Theadore Nott commanded Slytherin. He had assigned two leaders each when he realized more people from each house were joining everyday. This was good news for the Grey Side.

Aside from schoolwork and training his troops, Harry had to keep up appearances with the D.A. and his fellow Gryffindors. He talked and joked with them as though nothing had changed and he was still the same Harry Potter who was going to save them all. He had become a skilled actor and no one was the wiser. No one except Hermione, of course.

But the witch held her tongue, knowing that, when the time was right, Harry would call on her and tell her his secrets. She was even more suspicious of Ron at this moment. The red head spent his days and nights watching Harry, observing him in a weird way, and he no longer spoke to her much, if at all. Soon, she became irritated and decided to have a talk with him. Their words started out normal, then quickly turned to yelling, which caught Harry's and the others' attention.

"You're being paranoid, Hermione. Nothing's wrong!"

"Of course something's wrong. You never talk to us anymore, and you spend all your time watching Harry. It's not normal, Ron."

"What are you trying to say, Hermone? What has your big brain come up with to explain my actions?" he asked angrily.

She glared at him. "Well, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you fancied him."

The redhead spluttered and was about to retort when Hermione continued.

"But I _do_ know you better, and I think you're spying on Harry."

"Spying? Why would I spy on my best mate?!" he asked, his voice becoming high pitched as he realized he was soon to be cornered.

She lowered her voice to reply. "For Dumbledore. Because Harry is no longer his little pet and he wants to find out why."

Ron's eyes darkened. "This doesn't concern you."

"Of course it does," she scoffed. "Harry is my friend and I don't want any harm to come to him."

"You care more about him than you do me then?" he asked, accusingly.

Hermione's eyes turned very sad. "You've changed Ron. You've become bitter and unhappy. I don't like you like this. I… I love you, Ronald Weasley, but I don't want to be with you if this is how you're going to be."

Ron's jaw drooped and his whole face flushed. "You…love me?"

"Of course, you silly boy." She smiled, tears pooling in her chocolate orbs. "I always have, and part of me always will. But I can't be with you, not when you're like this. I'm sorry, Ron, but I choose Harry's side."

And she walked away from him.

That night, Harry held her as she cried. He eventually joined her as the painful realization hit; Ron had left them. He had left and he would most likely not return. The youngest Weasley boy had become one of Dumbledore's pawns, a life that was hard to escape from. They were alone.

XxXxX

A month before winter break, Hedwig had returned to Hogwarts with a reply from Tom. Harry hugged her and fed her some owl treats, happy for her safety. As he pet her, he noticed she was still disillusioned, but the force of the charms was stronger than before she had left.

Deciding to think on it later, he opened the letter and began reading.

Potter,

I have decided to agree to meet with you over your break. Go to the entrance of Knockturn Alley at midnight on Christmas Eve, Lucius will be waiting to escort you to the café I have in mind for our meeting place. Come alone. Send an owl if the time and date are an inconvenience for you. We will reschedule if that is the case.

Sincerely,

Tom Marvolo Riddle

P.S. Do work on your charms. Your bird became visible upon passing through my wards. She still had patches of brown on her, but the incantations you used wouldn't be strong enough to stay in place were Dumbledore to catch her. Practice harder. I would hate to see such a lovely owl offed by that old fool.

Harry smiled. He had gotten what he wanted.

XxXxX

That's it for now. The next chapter will hopefully be done by Christmas Eve. Thought I'd put that date as their meeting time as a kind of deadline for myself. Thanks for reading, and Happy Holidays.

Grammatical errors will be found and fixed at a later date.


	8. Kissing Death

4/14/10

**Warning!** This chapter contains sexual content inappropriate for readers under the age of 18. Reader discretion is advised.

**LV/HP Fan Warning: **Sex is not between the intended pair. For this reason, you may get pissed off. Tough cookies.

XxXxX

It had been a week since Harry had received Voldemort's letter and he had spent the better half of his evenings deep in the Forbidden Forrest, practicing for their meeting. He wrote down and rehearsed what to say and do, how to behave as a fellow lord, and worked to improve his magic. He was so wrapped up in his practice that he didn't notice he was being watched the entire time.

His observer kept at a distance and made sure to be down wind from the boy, in case his animagus nose picked up the scent. The second week Harry returned, the watcher made his move.

"Hello, Harry," came a smooth male voice from behind him.

Harry turned, drawing his wand in an instant and casting a powerful lumos. What he saw nearly made him jump in shock. Staring back at him were the red eyes he thought he had imagined his first night back, the eyes so perfect they could not be human, and they weren't. Standing before him, smiling wistfully, was a vampire.

He stood about 6' 2" and had pale, white skin. His hair was straight and black and fell to his mid-back. He was dressed in elegant grey and black Victorian clothing.

Slowly, Harry began to back away, preparing his legs to run if he needed to, even though he knew instinctually he could not outrun this creature. The vampire stepped forward and raised his hand toward Harry tentatively.

"Do not be afraid, Harry. I will not harm you."

Harry gave him an untrusting glare and stepped back further, right into a tree. '_Shit!_'

In a flash, the vampire was on him, but he wasn't sinking his fangs into his neck. Instead, the man was stroking his cheek. Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to break the contact, but the creature's hand would not budge.

"Shhh… Calm yourself, young one."

"Yeah, that's likely to happen." He opened his eyes when he heard a chuckle and realized he had spoken out loud. This vampire, this _creature_ was laughing at him! He growled and it smiled in response.

"So full of life."

"Yeah, unlike you," Harry retorted.

The man gave what could only be considered a pout. "That's not a very nice thing to say…"

"Well what am I supposed to say to a vampire? 'Would you like to come to my house and suck my blood?'"

"No need for rudeness," the vampire replied, frowning. "I didn't come here to fight."

"Why did you come here then?"

At this, the man grinned a pointy-toothed smile. "Why to make an ally, of course."

There was a long pause, during which they both simply stared at each other. When it seemed neither would speak, the vampire took the initiative.

"Please allow me to explain. I am Fior, of the Vire Clan. My coven is looking for an army to ally ourselves with. We have chosen yours."

Harry's eyes widened. "Why?"

"You are well known to many creatures throughout Europe, Harry. We have heard of your courage and strength, of what you have been through. There seems no one more deserving of our loyalties. I am certain the other species agree and will soon seek you out as well."

Harry's mouth hung open unattractively until Fior shut it gently with his fingertips. When he finally seemed to come back down to earth, all he could do was mutter a quiet, "Thank you."

"Do not thank me, Harry Potter. This alliance will surely benefit both our worlds."

And just like that, a partnership was formed.

XxXxX

The time soon came for Harry to return to his inherited home. At both the Grey Side and the D.A.'s final pre-break meeting, his troops were given instruction to train their minds and focus their magic until meetings resumed. Reassured with the knowledge that they would practice, he boarded the train back to London. As they arrived, he hugged his friends goodbye, wishing them a happy holiday, before exiting the station, making his way to the nearest underground entrance.

On the steps stood a man in a black trench coat. His long ebony hair swayed as he fell into step next to his leader.

"Are we being followed?" asked Harry, glancing at the man.

After a short pause, Fior shook his head. "No, we're fine for now. I shall inform you if I sense anything."

The young man nodded to his companion and they both rode off in the direction of Grimmauld Place.

When they reached their desired location, Harry and Fior entered the front door, breaking the wards as the house recognized the heir's presence. The young man placed his hand on the doorway and smiled as he felt the purr of magic. He was home. He led his vampire companion to the kitchen where he offered him a seat and refreshments.

"May I have water, please?" Fior asked.

"Of course," Harry replied politely, poring his guest a glass.

The teen watched as the vampire sipped his drink, taking in his fatigued appearance.

"Fior, are you all right? You seem tired, and you're paler than usual, if that's even possible."

The vampire chuckled. "I am alright, young one. I'm simply a bit…hungry."

"Oh," Harry replied, knowing what the man meant. "Do you need to hunt?"

Fior shook his head. "I cannot leave you unprotected, Harry. If something were to happen to you, I could never forgive myself," he said softly, adding to himself, '_And my coven wouldn't either_.'

The teen's cheeks flushed. After a few minutes he spoke again.

"You could always feed off _me_," he suggested.

Fior's head shot up. "Oh, no, Harry. I can't do that. Feed off my leader? What a suggestion!" He turned away nervously, hiding the hunger in his now glowing eyes.

"But if you can't hunt because of me, at least allow me to feed you. It's my duty as your host."

"You make it sound as easy as serving punch…" Fior sighed.

"Isn't it? You'll just be drinking from my body instead of a cup."

The vampire hesitated. "…Are you sure, My Lord?"

Harry nodded.

Trying to calm his pounding predator heart, the man took the teen's hand and helped him from his seat. "At least let us do this in a place you will be more comfortable."

Harry nodded once more and led his guest to the room he would be staying in. He sat down on the bed and watched as Fior sat across from him on an old wicker chair.

"How are you going to feed?" he asked, curious if real vampires fed like their Hollywood counterparts.

"I can feed from any major vein, but the one in your neck is the easiest to access."

"Alright," Harry said nervously, tilting his head to expose the left side of his neck. "Is this okay?"

"Yes, that's fine." Fior gulped, preparing to feed from the young wizard. He licked the skin above the carotid artery, numbing it slightly to ease the pain he would feel. Slowly, he sunk his fangs into the boy's neck.

Harry yelped softly, grabbing onto Fior's arm. The man rubbed the boy's back soothingly as he licked the wound, the anticoagulants in his saliva causing the blood the flow freely without stop.

After a minute, Harry's neck muscles were beginning to hurt. He moved to straddle the vampire's lap, lessening the strain. It wasn't long before it stopped hurting and started feeling pleasant. He whimpered.

Fior stopped. "Am I hurting you, My Lord? Do you want me to stop?" He had been holding back a great deal, drinking slowly and in small amounts.

Harry shook his head, pressing himself closer to the gentle predator. The man gulped.

"My Lord..?"

"Keep drinking."

Fior nodded, complying. Moments later he felt the teen's hips thrusting lightly against his own. His hands gripped Harry's sides. He was finding it quite hard to restrain himself.

Reluctantly, he released the supple flesh. "Harry…"

Said boy whimpered, thrusting harder, his hardened member rubbing against Fior's own and making him squeeze the teen's sides so hard it would surely leave bruises.

Harry hugged Fior's neck, leaning in to whisper a desperate, "Please…"

His resolve broke. He sank his fangs back in the soft flesh of his leader's neck, thrusting his now fully hard member up against Harry's.

Harry moaned, throwing his head back. His heartbeat sped up, pumping more of the sweet nectar into the vampire's mouth, fueling him.

Harry wiggled, whining as his pants grew more and more constricting. He reached down to undo them, but struggled.

"Allow me," Fior offered, breaking contact with the boy's neck to undo his pants. He slipped them off and tossed them aside, looking down at the black boxers holding Harry's restrained member. Slowly, he removed the cloth, revealing the swollen flesh beneath.

Harry flinched slightly as cold air hit his hot cock. He shivered and snuggled close to Fior. The vampire blushed, trying to remove his own pants with Harry still on top of him. He wiggled and squirmed the cloth down to his ankles where he kicked them off to the side.

He was about to remove his silk boxers when Harry slipped down to the ground between his legs. The boy smirked up at him as he removed the cloth and began nuzzling the vampire's cold, yet throbbing member.

Fior shuddered, guessing what Harry was up to before the teen wrapped his warm mouth around his cock. He moaned loudly. It had been so long since he had given into pleasure, and now to be pleasured by the leader of his coven's army, it was almost too much. He thrust into the boy's mouth.

Harry didn't seem to mind, seemingly able to take it down his throat with ease. He eagerly licked and suckled, giving special attention to the man's sensitive head. The vampire panted, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold out for long with the attention he was being given.

After a few more minutes of heavenly bliss, Fior thrust deep into the warm throat and released, moaning out Harry's name loudly. He fell back in his chair, making it creak in protest.

"My Lord…" he managed to pant out.

Harry wiped his mouth with his sleeve, smiling at the man. He then got up and lay down on the bed, posing rather cutely; his legs crossed together and his palms covering his hardened nipples that were now visible under his shirt. Fior couldn't help but become aroused again. He stroked himself to full hardness before looming over his adorable prey.

To think that this boy, this strong young man was about to be his excited him more than Harry's experienced tongue had. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside the teen's flesh. However, Harry seemed the type of boy that should be cherished, not rushed.

Gently, Fior spread his prey's legs, giving him access to the wanted entrance. Lifting Harry's hips, he began licking lightly. Harry squirmed.

"Nn…"

Fior looked up. "Does it feel good, Harry?" he asked before replacing his tongue with a saliva-wetted finger, moving it in and out with care.

Harry nodded, trying to hide his flushed cheeks with the sleeves of his shirt.

'_So cute_,' thought the vampire, adding another finger and enjoying the deepening red of Harry's cheeks. When a third finger was added, Harry cried out. Fior leaned in, nuzzling the teen's cheek and lapping at the still flowing blood.

"Are you ready?" he whispered.

"Yes," Harry replied, eagerly spreading his legs as wide as he was able.

Fior whispered a quick chant before entering him. He slipped in easily; indicating to him the boy was not a virgin. While disappointing, he wouldn't let that fact deter him. Instead, he began thrusting in and out gently.

"Harder", Harry moaned, thrusting onto Fior's cock.

Not one to disobey his leader's orders, he began to pick up speed and strength, making the teen hum in approval. Growing in confidence, the vampire worked to aim at the spot he knew would drive Harry wild, and as soon as he hit it all he heard were load moans. He closed his eyes, taking in the wonderful noise. How beautiful this wizard's voice was, like the low whinny of a thestral. Before long, these soft noises turned to those like a werewolf, feral, primal. He was on the brink.

"F-..Fior!" Harry moaned, bucking hard. In moments his back was arched as his climax ripped through him.

Soon after, Fior followed, crying out his leader's name in ecstasy. "Harry!"

The vampire fell atop the boy, panting heavily. Harry lay beneath him, eyes closed, too exhausted and inebriated to move. Gently, Fior leaned in and licked the bite wound closed, not wanting the young man to die then and there. He looked down at the satiated wizard and smiled when he heard the soft sounds of sleep coming from the boy's slightly parted lips. He leaned in and nuzzled his cheek.

"Goodnight, Harry."

XxXxX

Review, unless you intend to yell. Then don't review. :P


	9. Negotiations and Celebrations

12/9/10

Here is the rough draft of chapter nine. Tell me what you guys think. Enjoy.

Thanks to all who read, reviewed and placed me on their various lists.

XxXxX

Harry woke the next day with a massive headache. He groaned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He was dizzy and nauseous and not at all well. The only good he felt was a soft warmth pressed against his side. He looked down at the warm thing and his eyes widened.

'_Oh god._'

He lifted up the covers.

'_Oh god!_'

Fior's eyes fluttered open and he smiled up at him.

'_Ooooooh god! Harry, what did you do?_ ' the teen screamed at himself, panicked.

"Harry?" Fior looked at him, concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah! I er.." He coughed. "I'm fine."

The vampire looked skeptical, but he didn't push him further, and for that Harry was grateful.

Slowly, he lowered his feet to the floor and stood, only to stumble.

"Harry!" Fior exclaimed, leaping to assist him back onto the bed. "My Lord, you are _not_ alright."

Harry scrambled about in the sheets. "Potion…"

"What?"

"Potion," he repeated, signaling towards the door.

Fior nodded, rushing from the room to find what his leader needed. Deciding the best place to search would be Harry's bag, the located it and sifted through the clothes and toiletries until he found a wooden case. Inside the case was a collection of glass vials with various colored liquids in them. Not having any knowledge of potions, he took the whole thing back to the bedroom and laid it before his leader.

Harry grabbed a vial with deep crimson liquid and downed it. He immediately began to feel better and lay back on the bed to let the potion do its work. "Merlin…" he said, panting.

"My Lord," Fior began, "What was that you just took?"

Harry opened his eyes to look at his comrade. "A blood-replenishing potion."

Fior looked down guiltily. "It's all my fault," he said softly. "I drank too much. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Harry mumbled, closing his eyes again. He didn't want to talk about the events that had passed the previous night. And yet… "_I'm_ sorry."

"Why, Harry?" asked Fior, his voice incredulous.

"For forcing you into sex. I know you didn't want to."

Fior was silent for a long while. "I did."

"Hmm?"

The vampire turned to him. "I wanted to sleep with you. I just thought it would be inappropriate to ask, all things considered."

"Oh," Harry replied simply. "Well," he continued after a long pause, "what's done is done. No use blaming anyone for a natural occurrence."

Fior looked up in slight shock and nodded dumbly, apparently unable to believe Harry had forgiven the act.

"We will restart preparations for the meeting today," Harry said, turning to business.

"Yes, My Lord," Fior replied, bowing his head slightly and awaiting instructions.

"You will have to teach me about table manners. While I eat much more elegantly than my housemates, I have never been properly schooled in dinner etiquette. I see no reason to embarrass myself."

"Very well, I shall call for you when the lesson is prepared," Fior said, standing to retrieve his clothes before exiting the room.

Harry took the opportunity to rest a while longer whilst the potion took full effect. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, relaxing his limbs. Within seconds, he was asleep.

An hour later, Fior shook him awake gently.

"Harry," the vampire whispered, "Harry the lesson is prepared."

The teenager groaned and reluctantly pushed himself up and away from his comfortable resting spot. Shivering, he searched for his clothes. Fior handed him his boxers and left to let him change in privacy.

When he was fully clothed, Harry made his way downstairs, into the kitchen where Fior had placed a full dining set for one, complete with many pairs of silverware he had never dined with before.

'_This may take a while…_'

XxXxX

Christmas Eve soon found Harry walking through the entrance to Diagon Alley, hood pulled up and apparently alone. He had asked Fior to follow from a good distance away and had given instructions not to reveal himself without good reason. He didn't want to ruin tonight's negotiations. Very quickly he was at the entrance to Knockturn Alley where Lucius Malfoy was waiting to escort him. His hair shone silver in the moonlight, as did his hard, steel gaze.

"Mr. Potter," the older man greeted him silkily, nodding. "The Dark Lord is waiting."

Lucius led the way down the dark alley, past shops and people Harry didn't recognize. He had never gone this deep into Knockturn and he found himself becoming nervous. He moved closer as they twisted and turned into darker areas, but resisted the childish urge to grab onto the hand of the man in front of him.

It was embarrassing how these thoughts seemed to find him at the most inopportune times. He was so intent on hiding his slight blush that he forgot to look up and bumped into the Death Eater's back.

"We're here," Lucius said, making way for the young man.

Harry coughed and thanked him before entering a seemingly closed café and looked around. Even in the dim light, he could tell the small space was lavishly decorated to suit the tastes of higher-class citizens. A candle chandelier was lit in the back right hand corner, below which sat a handsome dark-haired man with hard crimson eyes.

"Good evening, Lord Potter," the man greeted in that unmistakable voice. "I hope your travels this evening were pleasant?"

Harry nodded. "They were." Nervousness was evident in his voice. This was his first time speaking with the man as a true lord, his equal.

"Would you care for some tea before we start?" Voldemort asked.

Harry nodded and fiddled with his cuff links while a cute brown-haired witch served him. He looked up through the steam at the man sitting across from him. He looked so different and yet so the same, nearly exactly the same as the memory he had met in the Chamber of Secrets back in second year. The man smiled back at him and his face went red. '_Merlin, why am I so excitable tonight?_'

The Dark Lord chuckled at the look on Harryy's face. "I know how shocking my current appearance must be for you. You're used to seeing my less appealing face."

"No," Harry quickly corrected. "I mean I am, but your other face isn't unappealing, just different."

This surprised the man. Other than Bellatrix, no one had told him he looked all right with his ugly, snake-like visage. And for a teenager, someone who should be focusing on outer beauty, to tell him this was most remarkable. Perhaps this young man was also different.

"I thank you, Lord Potter, for your understanding. It is difficult to look as I normally do."

Harry nodded. "I used to look really weird too. I was skinny and knobby and not at all attractive. So I know what it feels like."

The man's eyebrows rose up. "I'm surprised to hear that. You look very nice now."

Again Harry's cheeks went red. "You flatter me, My Lord."

"I have been known to be rather charming," he said with a smirk.

"Yes," Harry said, coming back to reality. "That is how you gather followers."

"And you do not do the same?"

Harry blinked. Thinking back on how he had persuaded others to follow him, he did recall using his looks and his charms. "I suppose I do."

"It is a very effective tactic. People will do anything to feel accepted, especially by someone they admire or love."

Harry's eyes took on a sad look.

"What is it, Potter?"

"Is that… I mean.."

"Speak your mind."

Harry looked up at the man, his gaze hard. "Is that what you're doing to me?"

The Dark Lord looked taken aback. Never before had his tactic of charm caused him to feel the slightest amount of guilt, but the hurt in the boy's green eyes made his heart nearly stand still. For the first time, he would say, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"I always use my charm naturally, without thinking. I did not mean to disrespect you in any way. I, too, wish for these negotiations to go well."

Harry thought for a moment. "You know," he said, "I'm not quite sure how it's going to work out. I mean, I want the war to end, but things are so twisted and chaotic, I don't know if anything can we done." He looked truly sad.

"I see what you mean. Our tactics are very different and our goals… Well, it may be disastrous if we join. I'm certain Dumbledore would immediately try to take control of the situation."

"That sounds like him," Harry agreed. "He's a powerful puppet master."

Voldemort smirked. "Someone has cut his strings, I see."

Harry took a sip of his tea, a haughty expression on his face. "I do not like being controlled."

"Nor do I."

"That is one of many things you and I have in common," Harry said, smiling.

"Indeed."

Food was ordered and words were exchanged, but the war was never brought up. They spent their time discussing quidditch, school, politics, and other normal topics. By the time dinner was done and they were ordering desert, both knew that nothing would change. The war would continue, many lives would be lost, and Harry would do nothing to stop him.

There was one thing, however, that could possibly change that. One person. And that person was soon to show up. When the door to the café opened and Lucius walked in, Harry was surprised to see he was not alone. Standing next to him was his son, looking shocked.

"Ah, you're here. Please, sit."

Draco sat down next to Harry, avoiding eye contact with him and looking directly at Voldemort. "Why have you called me here, My Lord? And what in Merlin's name is _Potter_ doing here?"

"Lord Potter," he corrected, "is here because I called on him. We were working on ways to end the war."

"End it?" Draco asked. "But don't you want control of the wizarding world? Isn't that your goal?"

"It is, Draco. However, certain events have altered my goals."

"How?"

"That is personal."

"Was it him?" Draco asked, pointing accusingly at Harry. "Did he do something?"

"Draco," Lucius began calmly.

"No! I want to know what he did! Why is our Lord not cursing me, torturing me for questioning him? Why is he so calm? Why has the anger left his eyes?"

Voldemort's eyes widened slightly. The boy had a point. He certainly wasn't angry at the Malfoy heir's inappropriate behaviour towards him, but why? Why didn't he feel angry?"

Harry was looking at him, the same confusion apparent in his eyes. Those eyes. Pools of death curse green filled with raw emotion, showing the looker the feelings of his soul. These eyes were far too human for someone as inhuman as himself.

But perhaps they balanced out.

He sighed and turned towards the angry young Malfoy. "Draco, calm yourself, now." The force in his voice was enough to frighten the teen into silence. "I did not call you here so you could whine and rant."

Draco blushed, lowering his eyes. Unable to resist, he asked, "Why did you call me here, My Lord?"

"Young Lord Potter has expressed to me a desire to cease your fueding. He wishes to be friends."

Draco went from curious, to confused, to utterly bewildered in a matter of seconds. All he could say was, "What?"

Harry looked at him. "I apologize for not contacting you directly. I really do want to try and be friends."

"Why would you want to do that?" Draco asked, skeptic.

"I'm tired of fighting all the time. I want to get along instead."

Draco looked between Harry and the Dark Lord. "Is that why you two aren't at each others' throats?"

Both nodded.

He shook his head. "Peace between sides. I never thought I'd live to see it."

"So?" Harry asked holding out his hand, "What do you say?"

Draco hesitated, looking around to make sure that the Weasel and Mudblood weren't hiding out somewhere, holding cameras, that this wasn't a joke…

The two teens stared at each other, years of bad history flowing through their minds, hope shining in each of their eyes. And Draco took Harry's hand, and Harry smiled, and another new alliance was formed.

XxXxX

Review if you'd care to.


	10. Getting To Know You

4/15/11

Okay, I'm back, if only for a short while. Real life is tiring me out and making being creative difficult. Still, I'm sorry for taking so long. You guys rock for being so patient.

Before you read, I'd like to clarify something and that's how Harry got his wand and trunk back. If you'll recall in chapter one Dumbledore wrote Harry that an Order Member would go to the Dursleys' to get him. One did, and that's how they discovered he was missing. Said Order member took his things to Grimmauld place, and then Dumbledore transported them to Hogwarts. I hope that clears up that plot hole. Please let me know if you spot anymore, as I tend to miss them until way later.

Now, please read and enjoy.

XxXxX

"Let's play Twenty Questions," Harry suggested to Draco one evening after their studying was done. The two had taken to tutoring one another after class on subjects they were slipping up in.

Draco looked up from his Potions essay, eyes alight with curiosity. "What's that?"

"It's where we each ask twenty questions to learn more about each other."

The Slytherin leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look upon his face. "Alright," he agreed. After all, when would he get another opportunity like this? He started out with something simple. "What's your favorite color?"

"I have two," Harry said, "Green and black." It was his turn. "What are yours?"

"Black, silver, and white."

"White?" Harry asked with interest.

"Yeah. You got a problem with that, Potter?" Draco asked with a scowl on his face.

"No, I've just never seen you wear white before."

"It's rather difficult to wear white clothing at this school," the blonde replied. "They would become filthy."

'_That makes sense_,' Harry thought. There was a good reason their uniforms were black after all.

Draco's turn. "What's your favorite animal?"

"Snakes."

Draco's surprise must have shown on his face, because Harry began to chuckle.

"What?" he asked.

"You're starting to sound more and more Slytherin by the minute."

"I don't have to be a Snake to like snakes," Harry replied good-naturedly. "One of my oldest friends happens to be a Burmese python at the London Zoo."

"Interesting," Draco said, stroking his chin. "I would enjoy meeting him one day."

Harry smiled. "I think he'd like that. Now, what's _your_ favorite animal?"

"Giraffes," Draco responded, and Harry nearly burst out laughing.

"Why giraffes?"

"I've always liked them, ever since I was a little boy and Mother and Father brought home photographs from their safari in Africa. I thought all the animals were interesting, though none as much as the giraffes. I would smile every time I saw them."

"Why?" Harry asked, even more curious now.

Draco shrugged. "I thought they were pretty."

Harry would have started up laughing again had a certain memory not entered his mind; one that occurred on that fateful trip to the zoo. He had been enjoying himself, watching the animals and noticing similarities between them and his family, making him giggle. Unfortunately, Harry soon found that Dudley had been doing the same thing as he pointed to the giraffes and exclaimed, "Look, Potter, I've found your real family! They're knobby and skinny and ugly like you!" The boy then proceeded to guffaw and walk on to the next animal's habitat.

He hadn't been hurt by the comment of course; he was far past such things after living with it for so long. What had bothered him was that Dudley had called the giraffes ugly. He looked at them for a long time, trying to see any part of them that wasn't completely natural and beautiful, but could find none. Coming back to reality, he realized that he, too, found giraffes pretty.

He gave the other boy a soft smile. "Yes, they really are."

Draco stared at him for a moment before recovering himself, his cheeks pinking slightly. It was his turn. "Why did you choose Weasley over me?"

Harry was a bit taken aback by the question. After all, they had both been eleven when he had rejected the blonde; a mere child easily influenced by the words of the only person his age who had ever been nice to him. "Because of how you were to Ron, and because of what he said about you."

"What did he say?"

He hesitated, trying to find words that wouldn't completely anger the blonde. "He said…your family was dark, that all Slytherins were and that scared me."

"How could you believe that?" Draco asked, anger in his voice and hurt in his eyes.

"I didn't know you very well and the only times we had spoken you were a total prat. You reminded me of my cousin and I didn't want to be friends with someone like that."

They were quiet for a long time, both waiting for the other to speak.

Finally Draco asked, "Why were you scared?"

"Hagrid had just told me about my parents, how they…how they really died. I didn't want the same thing to happen to me."

"Oh," was all Draco said.

"Why did you want to become friends with me?" Harry asked.

"Because you're famous."

He frowned, feeling a sharp pain in his chest at his words.

"At least," Draco continued, "That's what it was back then."

Harry looked up, eyes questioning.

"Over time, my want became a need, my need an obsession. I'd do anything to get your attention, even if it meant insulting you and your friends. I don't know why, though, honestly. I haven't figured it out."

Harry's cheeks were red. He felt strangely flattered.

"Alright, my turn." Draco declared. "Birds or blokes?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you prefer women or men?"

Harry's face grew even hotter. "You mean sexually?"

Draco nodded.

"Women, of course," was his automatic and quite defensive answer.

"You've never even thought about being with a man?"

He was about to say no when he realized that would be a lie of incredible proportions, because he _had_ been with a man before, and quite recently at that.

"I…"

He couldn't tell Draco that.

"..Er…"

He felt bad about it.

"Um…"

Why did he feel bad about it?

Draco rolled his eyes. "Calm down, Potter. Don't have a heart attack."

By now his face was as red as a tomato and his heart was beating out of his chest. Draco merely smirked.

"You don't have to be so nervous."

Harry took deep, calming breaths until he calmed down. They continued talking until the library closed, both forgetting they had already asked twenty questions each.

XxXxX

"Harry, are you alright?" Fior asked him later that week as they snuggled. They had been using the Room of Requirement for the vampire's 'feeding' sessions since coming back. "You've been awfully quiet lately."

So he had. He couldn't help it, though. He had so much on his mind. Did he fancy blokes because he enjoyed the sex or did he want more with the men he lusted after? And why didn't he ever lust after women? He had never thought of himself as a homosexual until now and it was terrifying. What would his friends think? The more specific question was how the rest of the school and the whole of the wizarding world would take it. He had no idea if wizards were open or not when it came to such things. If they were anything like muggles he was doomed.

He groaned and rolled over, facing the opposite direction of his worried partner. He wasn't in the mood to talk and, though he desperately wanted to be held and comforted, he didn't want a man to do it. '_I wish mum was here..._' That made him feel even worse.

"Harry, please tell me," the man requested, his worry increasing. "Did I do something wrong?"

Harry turned and looked over at his friend, guilt now being his prominent emotion. "Of course not. I'm just not feeling well, that's all."

"Do you need a blood replenishing potion?" Fior asked, ready to hop up and fetch it for him if need be.

"No, I'll be fine. Thank you." And he allowed himself to be held, despite his pounding heart and the awkwardness in his stomach. Eventually he would figure everything out. He just hoped it would be soon.

XxXxX

I am so dissatisfied with this chapter. It's utter shit. Please don't track me down and kill me for its awfulness. (-.-)


	11. Important Author Note

4/15/11

I've made a crucial decision regarding this story. I will be rewriting a large portion in order to better organize events throughout. Chapters one through three will remain unchanged, but chapters four and five will have minor and major changes, and every chapter after that will be completely redone. I apologize for any disappointment this may cause, but I've become very discouraged with this story for a while and it's something I need to do. If you want to save the chapters I've already posted, I suggest doing so now. Thank you all for reading and being so supportive of me all this time. I hope you enjoy the new chapters just as well.


End file.
